


Leicester Square

by missdibley



Series: Panic: A Series of One-Shots Set in London (except for the one set in Edinburgh) [6]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Cunnilingus, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Self-Image, Smut, Tickling, intercourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 02:31:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4729409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Tom is getting photographed in Leicester Square, Carmen finds herself under scrutiny in Oxford Street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leicester Square

My problem is this: Tom is really good-looking. Like, really handsome. Incredibly beautiful, within and without. And this is something that I take for granted because we seemed to fall for each other so hard my head still spins from the surprise, from the thrill.

From the love.

My head is spinning right now as I sit here at home, scrolling through Tumblr, looking at the photos from a shoot in Leicester Square he did this afternoon. There he goes running down the street in bright blue pinstripes. And now he’s wearing grey in an archway, holding an umbrella. In several shots you can almost detect the outline of his dick, so much so that one of his lovely fangirls on Tumblr started tagging her gif sets #RAGNACOCK and even I had to laugh at that.

But it’s not impossible for me to reconcile this creature with the dork who woke me up earlier today with his morning breath, hair going in all directions and desperately in need of a shower and a shave.

“You sure you don’t want to come? No desire to see how the celebrity sausage is made?” Tom was standing at the door, waiting for his Uber to arrive.

I shook my head and curled up on the couch. “I’ve got this pile from Persephone Books I want to work through.” I sat up and blinked. “Unless you need me there?”

Tom smiled, then dashed over to kiss my forehead. “I’ll be fine. Home in time for supper.”

“Cool. I’ll take care of that, then.”

“When you say ‘take care of that…’” Tom looked hesitant.

“It means instead of setting your kitchen on fire in a vain attempt to make spaghetti I will simply get takeaway from Nando’s.”

“Good girl.” He went to the door, then looked back at me. “That book you’re reading. It wouldn’t happen to be a cookbook, would it?”

“ASSHOLE!” I yelled good-naturedly at him as he ducked out with a laugh.

The pictures from the shoot hit the web while I was running an errand on Oxford Street. I try to avoid going to this shopping clusterfuck but the Evans (aka clothing for fat ladies) store is there and I needed black opaque tights. One of the clerks asked if it was really me she saw in the tabloids with Tom, and I just shook my head before I ran out the door. I dashed off a quick text asking him if he wanted anything special to drink, as we only had milk and water at home, then ducked into the tube.

By the time I got off the train and was browsing through the beer selection at Little Waitrose, they were on the web. Pictures of me. Frowning at things as I browsed through Evans. My chin tucked in so it doesn’t just look like a double chin but beard of fat. The beginnings of a pimple casting a shadow on my left cheek.

> _“Carmen DiGregorio, 45, rumoured paramour of England’s #1 heartthrob Tom Hiddleston, waddled into the plus-size emporium Evans in Oxford Street, no doubt in search of something slimming. We know everything is bigger in America but does that apply to its women as well?”_

I slipped my phone into my coat pocket, wiped my snout on my sleeve (because of course I started crying), and paid for the lager I was holding in my hand.

When I got home I dropped everything - the tights, the chicken, the lager, and my coat - by the front door. I was about to do my favorite thing when I’m very sad, which is to lie on my side on the couch, facing the back of it, my head propped up on Boh, my plush mouse. Before I could, I heard my phone buzzing in my coat pocket. I didn’t want to answer it but as I am addicted to the device I grabbed it before I curled up.

> _Luke here. Saw the pics of you this afternoon. So sorry. Getting into it now._
> 
> Don’t do anything. Please. Don’t want things to get worse. You know they could.
> 
> _Are you sure?_
> 
> No, but better to be safe than sorry.
> 
> _You okay?_
> 
> No, but I’ll get better.
> 
> _What happened?_
> 
> I’m not sure. I just went in to buy some tights. Clerk asked if it was me she saw in the tabloids with T. I shook my head then left.
> 
> _That’s sounds fine. You did good._
> 
> Does Tom know?
> 
> _No. He’s still working. There’s a few more shots the photographer needs._
> 
> He doesn’t have his phone?
> 
> _No, I have his mobile in my pocket._
> 
> Please don’t tell him. I just… I don’t want him to get upset. For once I’m grateful for his tendency to avoid the internet.
> 
> _As am I, though that has to be fixed eventually._
> 
> Just not today.
> 
> _Precisely._
> 
> Anything else?
> 
> _I think that’s it but I’ll be in touch if I learn anything more._
> 
> Thanks. One more thing.
> 
> _Yeah?_
> 
> Whoever it was… I hope it was worth it.

I set the table, moving the food into proper dishes that went into the oven to keep warm, and put away my coat and tights. It didn’t take me long to do these things so I got to spend a fair amount of time lying on the couch, staring at the living room ceiling. I put Boh next to my head, occasionally nuzzling his plush bottom when I wasn’t wiping my tears on it. And then a text from Tom, who was on his way home.

> _Dessert? I should get something, right?_
> 
> Yeah. Sounds good.
> 
> _What do you fancy?_
> 
> Whatever you want. I probably won’t have any.
> 
> _Even if I got a slice of banoffee pie with extra whipped cream?_
> 
> I’ll just put it in the fridge.
> 
> _Something’s wrong._
> 
> No.
> 
> _Yes._

“Carmen.”

I looked up from my phone when Tom walked in the door. He still had a little bronzer on his forehead and cheeks but was wearing the clothes he left the house in. Leather jacket, blue t-shirt of sex, jeans and boots.

“Hey you.”

Tom came over to the couch. Instead of his usual kiss, he sat next to me, taking my hands in his. He pressed his lips to them, then began to rub the knuckles. He looked up at me and smiled.

“I don’t know what’s bothering you. But I wish you’d tell me.”

“You can’t help it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not your fault. Not your problem to solve.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s our problem, isn’t it?”

I burst into tears, yanking my hands out of his so I could cover my face. As soon as I did, I felt his arms around my shoulders. I shifted so I could scoot closer, and he could kiss my neck.

“I lied.”

I looked at Tom and sniffed. “What did you lie about?”

“I think I know what’s bothering you.”

I nodded. “Did Luke tell you?”

“Only when I made him.”

“How did you know something was wrong?”

“There was a point during the shoot where I looked at him and he was standing completely still, speaking into his mobile. His free hand was shoved deep in his pocket. As soon as he caught my eye, he turned around so I couldn’t see his face.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luke like that.”

“It’s not pretty.”

“A shame, as he’s adorable otherwise.”

Tom brushed my hair behind my ears. “You paid Luke a compliment. You feeling better?”

“Maybe.” I sighed. “Did you see them? The pictures?”

Tom nodded, and I looked away. Or tried to. Tom ran his finger under my chin, and I faced him again. He looked serious.

“I hate them,” I whispered.

Tom leaned in and kissed me.“I love them.”

“Are you insane?”

He shook his head. “No. I was missing you. Those pictures came out and I saw you and I felt better.”

“You’re nuts.”

“No. I’m not. All day I wanted to call you up and talk to you. Ask you if instead of Nando’s we could be naughty and have KFC. Tell you that you looked adorable this morning when you were curled up reading your books. Wish you a pleasant afternoon. Promise that I’d be home for supper. Say I love you.”

“But what about the pictures? What did you want to say after you saw them.”

“Still the same. Oh but I’d add this. I would tell you that when you tuck your chin into your chest like that, because you’re looking at your phone or, more likely, at a cute dog you want to meet, your hair falls around your face like a cloud and it’s so beautiful.”

“Oh.”

“And I was selfish. I wanted you there at the shoot because I wanted you to tell me things.”

“Like what?”

Tom closed his eyes. “If that purple suit really looked good, or was the stylist just blowing smoke up my arse. What you thought about the shoes, especially the trainers as I thought they were cool, and I might just buy them for myself. And yes, of course you will get in a few shots with me, but only for me. Only for us. That you love me, and that you’re proud of me.”

“I would have done those things.”

“I know.”

“What do you want to do now?”

“I have a few ideas.” He looked at me with a gleam in his eye. I blushed.

Tom got up and held out his hands, pulling me to my feet. He kissed me, then led me upstairs to his bedroom. He kicked off his boots and jeans, then helped me shrug out of my sweater and skirt. I pulled off my bra and then we crawled into bed.

“You wore underpants today.” I ran my hand down his flat stomach to the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Well, it’s a nice thing to do when you’re leaping about in borrowed clothes.”

“But you’re not doing that anymore, are you?”

Tom shook his head. “I guess that means they have to go.” I slipped my hands over his hips, then pushed them down a bit before he sat up a little and wiggled out of them himself. “Your turn.”

I nodded, then slipped my boy shorts off.

“So now what?”

“This.” Tom started tickling me, starting around with the crooks of my elbows, the underside of my jaw, and then my belly.

“You fucker!” I squealed before trying to tickle him under his arms, the nape of his neck, and behind his knees. But as he’s got about eight inches of height on me, not to mention his long legs and arms, I never stood a chance. Tears got in my eyes, I was laughing so hard. He’d lick me - my neck, my belly button, my palm - and I’d pretend to be grossed out but my laughter always gave me away.

It wasn’t long before Tom had me pinned beneath him, straddling my right thigh while his hands, wrapped gently around my wrists, pinned my arms to the mattress. I wiggled, but it was no use. I wasn’t going anywhere, having lost the tickle battle.

“Wait, do that again. The wiggle. It makes your tits bounce around ever so nicely.”

I stuck my tongue out him. He got back at me by licking the inside of my ear.

“Wiggle, madam.”

“No!”

“Oh, so you’re going to be a brat about it?”

I bit my lip and nodded slowly. His eyes got dark as his pupils dilated.

“Good.”

And with that, he was all over me. Kissing me deeply, like he was tasting me for the first time, or the last time, it was so intense. I wrapped my arms around his neck, laughing when he began to kiss down my neck. He raised his head and arched an eyebrow.

“Wiggle!”

“No!”

And with that he kissed my right breast, licking the nipple before sucking it into his mouth. He brushed his thumb over my left nipple, which was already hard. I closed my eyes, laughing when I felt him tickling the underside of my left breast.

“Wiggle!”

“No!”

Tom kissed down my belly, blowing a raspberry just under my navel. My body jerked in response, and I just kept on laughing.

He growled. “That was a wiggle!”

“No it wasn’t!”

“Brat!” Tom kept his hands on my breasts, squeezing them as his mouth made its way to my sex. When I felt his tongue flick at me, I laughed then moaned. Or moaned then laughed. Either way, Tom’s head shot up and he looked at me.

“Fuck me, that was hot. Make that sound again.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“NOW.”

As I laughed, my legs spread apart and he took that as his chance to take my thighs in his hands and prop them up on his shoulders. I moaned as I felt his tongue push into me, lapping at my folds, pressing deep, before it swept up to my clit. Tom did this thing where he sucked on my clit with his lips while flicking the tip of his tongue against it. And then he kept doing it and I knew I was beginning to come apart. He had his arms wrapped around my thighs so that he could interlace his fingers on my belly. I didn’t miss the feeling of his fingers inside me, not at that moment, because all I could feel was the intense pleasure emanating from my clit as I came.

Tom sat up, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, then moved to the foot of the bed. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, then pulled me to the edge. He pushed my legs apart and looked at me.

“Wiggle!”

“NO!”

And with that, Tom took himself in hand and brushed the tip of his cock against my clit. I don’t know who moaned louder, me or him.

“I know… you think… you’re punishing me…” I panted at him. “But that big hard dick of yours tells me…”

Before I could finish, Tom brought me up, pressing his chest to mine in a tight embrace. His mouth was on mine, his tongue teasing mine so deliciously. As soon as I moaned, he started tickling my sides and I howled with glee.

“Hahahahaha! Jerk! I hate you!” But I couldn’t keep the smile off my face, even when in our laughter we convulsed so much that his cock slid right into me.

“Oh fuck…” He moaned, and I could only whimper in response. He was still for exactly a second, just long enough for me to welcome him, to adjust to his size, revel in how fucking good he felt inside me.

I grabbed his ass and held on for dear life as he began thrusting into me. His ass felt good in my hands, clenching as he pumped away. I moaned at the feeling of him fucking me so hard and so fast, and at the sound of him panting in my ear. I met him, thrust for thrust, even as I worked my hand between us to rub my clit. When I touched it, I jerked, almost as if I was trying to get away, but Tom just tightened his grasp on my ass and pulled me in. He covered my mouth with his, kissing me so I had no breath left to do anything but laugh as I came again, bucking my hips into his, so much so that I thought I might knock him off the bed. He tightened his grasp around me just as he came, going still as he filled me.

We lay there, perfectly still, our heavy breathing in sync. It was quiet. Quiet until, of course, I began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I just feel good.” I turned my face to his and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He kissed the hollow of my throat. “But don’t think I’m forgetting about your misbehavior. I’ll make you wiggle yet, miss.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh you will.” Tom closed his eyes. “You will.”

* * *

 

> _Sources are reporting that London “It Boy” actor Tom Hiddleston was spotted hand in hand with American main squeeze Carmen DiGregorio, 36, on a late night run to KFC. Disheveled in what appeared to be pyjamas, their hair in a complete disarray, the loopy lovers stumbled out of the fried chicken emporium with a large bucket and two large cups containing what appeared to be orange soda. An unidentified patron reported the presence of what appeared to be “love bites” on both of their persons, though the exact locations have yet to be confirmed. More as this story develops._


End file.
